The Song of Exile
by zabuza2
Summary: Lost in the Turning the Tide series is where the story of Zabuza unfolds. R&R. Chapter 4 has been posted.
1. The Slave Tavern

Chapter 1: The Slave Tavern

"There are all going to laugh at you!" I said to myself. I had just three weeks ago been a top class assassin. Now I was being jerked into an unjustified worn down tavern. The multi-link shackles that bound me at my wrists and ankles, where far too much for my strength to handle. I saw the men in the tavern gape at me, and the classy ladies began to chime with giddy laughter, "What a silly girl!" they laughed.

I was brought into a rage and I wrestled against my restraints. One of the guards holding my chains yanked violently. I fell to the hardwood floor with a loud thud. Pain struck me. The tavern roared with immense laughter while I laid there whimpering until the guard tugged on the chains again, signaling me to my feet. I had never felt so low in my life. Everyone was eying me and waiting for me to be cumbersome again.

I gathered enough strength to continue the rest of the way to the raised display platform. The relatively short walk felt like a brutal march that was often sympathetically talked about in stories I had often heard of war prisoners. Then again, aside from the wealthy landowners, all of Exile was somewhat of a penal colony.

I would forever long to leave Exile and find a home in the Wealthy lands such as Archland and Kaana. Of course there was still Dagron. Dagron was a rich country but only for gold. It most certainly was not wealthy in beauty for the land there was said to be of mostly plateau, mountains, and desert. And I believe that wondrous scenery is the most important of all the characteristics of a great country, but beauty isn't necessarily grass, trees, or gardens. Even a desert can be beautiful. Colorful sands and the widespread sunset of the desert make it pleasant for those who know better to enjoy it. The crumbling and decaying earth of Dagron, however, is not a pleasure to endure.

Alas the dying land of Dagron was easily compared with my spirit. I had little left to put forth. My spirit had been broken and now all I had was a youthful pride. It was fairly odd that even though I was only sixteen years of age, my since of dream had been shattered. Why was I challenged with such a colossal burden? If my heart had been a vast sea it would be empty. Was there any hope lying buried in the cragged dry land. In a final comparison, that sea is now a scourging desert. A wasteland covering ancient secrets; that's all it was.

Now as I thought through my pain, I submitted to the situation. A man I presumed to be the auctioneer came forth and caressed me under my chin. I shuttered and wanted to bite the man's hand off for touching me with his vile, dingy, coarse, perverted hands. Getting over the touch I realized, although the man probably enjoyed touching me, he had to touch me because it was also his job to inspect me. After surveying me far too thoroughly, the man turned to the crowded batch of landowners.

"Beautiful ladies and noble gentlemen! If I could have your undivided attention." The auctioneer announced. "Beautiful…Noble!" I thought humorously. I wanted to laugh, but I knew that it would draw unneeded attention.

A grin crossed the man face when the room grew silent. Trying to imitate a storyteller, the auctioneer began to speak, "Arrested on numerous accounts of theft and prostitution, this girl was brought into the swenklers." I felt my face burn red as the man mentioned the words prostitution. It was not in the least bit true. In fact I had never even been with man before, let alone been bought by one. Then a smiled crossed my face, although it was only for a moment. They talked of prostitution being low and I agreed, but in a since they were buying me out for their pleasure right now.

"In the swenklers she learned to cook, clean, yard keep. She makes an excellent farmhand and an even better gardener." The man paused and looked at the faces of the crowd. He could see that they did not want me for any of the reasons they mentioned. "With out further ado," he redirected "I open the bid at 2000 parros. Do I have a wager?"

A man raised his number sign, "2000!" he said. "Thank you, sir!" the auctioneer said cheerfully."

From the back of the tavern a man raised his voice, "10000 parros!" He yelled.

"By the seas sir! Why such a high and noble bid so early." The man said in shock.

"I don't feel like playing games. As usual I will win the bid so turn her over to me now so I can take my leave!" The man in the back yelled.

"15000!" A new man mumbled, and the audience awed at the man. I saw the man stand. He was not very tall but was still taller than me. He had long, light blue hair. The hair, although tremendously different from most standards, was fairly enjoyable. It was fashioned in a way that was actually soft and clean. His face was handsome and his clothes were neat. He did not look like the other rich bidders, although I could guessed he was rich by his high bidding.

"Great Heavens we have a challenger!" The auctioneer announced jovially.

"17000!" The man in the back spat maniacally!"

"25000!" The blue haired man yelled.

Just like it had just begun, it ended. I could tell it ended when the audience including the man in the back gasped. "Sold to the generous sir!"

In a sense I was relived that the blue haired man had won. Although I was unsure if the man was amble or not, I knew he wasn't quite like the others. He had a handsome and young look but he also harbored as sense of wisdom and maturity. I knew that whoever this man was, he was deep. I could see it in his look. I can learn a lot about a person just by watching.

The guard walked me off the platform gently. I supposed he only eased on me because I was someone's property now. He took me to the man and gave him the chains. With no delay the man paid his debt and grabbed me by the arm and we exited. The moment we walked out the battered doorway I heard a ping on the ground. I looked to my feet and realized with shock that my bindings had been dropped.

"Why did you drop the chain?" I asked. The man did not speak immediately, instead he took a key he had just received and unlocked my shackles as well. They too fell to the turf with a thud. My breathing grew heavy and I began to rasp, "Is he showing kindness!" I thought.

"You are not a dog, and because you are not a dog you will not be chained. As a matter of fact, you are not low in my eye by any standard, for a beautiful women such as yourself is more than equal to my class." The man spoke flattery to me.

I was shocked again as the man talked of equaling himself with me. And he had done something no man or a woman for that matter had ever done. He called me beautiful. My face flushed. It was not from the man's flatter, but anger. It was anger because I thought that he had been taunting me. Because no one had ever told me I was beautiful, I could not help but believe that the man was trying to get under my skin. Even so, I would much prefer this man getting under my skin then any of the men in the tavern trying to get on it.

"Why the red face? You act as if no one has called you beautiful before." The man asked, puzzled.

"That is because no one has." I replied. "Why must you act so majestic?"

The man's handsome facial features grew hideous with rage, "But what a sin! All men should die for never saying so. Trust me woman, I know beautiful and you are it."

My face grew red like an apple, but this time it was from his flattery.

The man continued, "You will work for me, and that is my one wish. You will work for money. When I think that you have a sufficient amount of money to support your own life, then I will set you free. Until then you will work in my bar and be a bartender. As for me being majestic…you'll have to decide yourself."

At the time I cared not what job he gave me, because I was so enthralled at the fact that I would receive an income for the first time in my life. When I was an assassin I did not work for money. I work for my food, shelter, and the clothes on my back. That was all that mattered. Why did I need anything else? But this was different. Now I could start my own life and enjoy things that I had never enjoyed before. Maybe someday I could have started a family and had children to hold. Yes, a mother would be what I wanted to be.

The man and I walked through town, and for a little while we did not speak. We arrived at the stables and I understood that the man probably did not even live in this town. He more than likely did not have a slave tavern where his town was. As a matter of fact, there were only about six or seven slave taverns in all of Exile.

The man told me to wait outside as he went inside to fetch his horse. When he went inside I thought of running away. I knew I could make it, but unlike most criminals I knew that I had nowhere to run to. Not in Exile, a place where the sun was only up for a few hours, a place where darkness prevailed, and a place where the ground was never dry. Instead it was moist and cold. Numerous swamps caked the land and the occasional bog sprouted up.

The man came back with one horse and I gasped. I had to share a horse with him.

"Let's make haste." He said. "Because there is a storm coming, and I would like to be home before then."

Gently he took my arm and led me to the brown horse. He hoisted me carefully onto the saddle. I knew how to get on and ride a horse, but I wanted to enjoy his politeness. As I sat on the horse I waited for him to leap on behind me, but instead he just walked in front the horse and grabbed its reins. He then began to walk moderately paced down the rode that left the town. The man was so prideful that I was afraid that if I mention the fact that he did not get on the horse with me, he might get offended.

For the rest of the day I rode and he walked until he finally stopped and we took a break. I was heart broken for the man because he looked so exhausted, and I felt like it was somewhat my fault.

He pulled out what little he had in his day-sack and prepared a light supper. It was Chicken and rice. To him it was nothing special, but to me it was. That meal marked the first time anyone had ever fixed food for me because they didn't just see me as a property.

While we ate the man conversed with me. "So what is your name?"

"I was named Zabuza by father." I answered.

"Tell me about your father. Was he nice?" the man asked and I tensed up. The relationship with my father was a different tale, a tale that often left me tears. And just like all those others times I began to cry.

"My father was a monster!" I yelled.

"Why? What did he do to make you cry and loathe him?" the man asked sympathetically.

"M-My father was… he was a demon. And I mean that literally."

"A demon! Then that makes you one. You! Of all people you are a sin child, a henchwoman of the nether!" His harsh words cut through me ruthlessly. I began to stumble backwards as I tried desperately to get to my feet. I did not want to be there anymore. I had felt welcome, and I thought the man would be different from the others when I told him who I was, although I wasn't exactly who he thought I was. I was on my feet again when I yelled to him both dejectedly and ferociously, "I am not a demon! I am only half a demon. Even so, I am not evil am I? Have I not a pure heart?" I wanted to say more but I was cut off by the thunder. At that I turned and ran.

The man yelled after me and was soon too on his feet. He pursued me. I was so exceptionally fast that I saw that a gap was forming quickly between us. It was just then that the air began to fill with the sound of rain. It came so quickly and suddenly that it appeared as if it had been raining all along. The downpour immediately engulfed everything with wetness. I was astounded enough to slip, and I fell hard to the ground. I fell so hard, in fact, that I sprained my ankle.

I pounded the ground with my fist as my salty teary ran down my cheeks and then fell to the soaked ground. He was going to catch me. He was going to beat me and call me more names. He was going to be like everyone else.

I rolled on to my back to see that the man was already standing over me. His hand was outreached and he shook. He did not shake because the rain was cooling him. He shook because he was crying. I saw the same man I saw earlier before. I saw that he had spotted his error, and he would never forgive himself for it. But I would. I already had. Because the moment I saw his face I knew who he was, because as I had said, I can tell who a person is just by simply looking upon them.

I grabbed his hand and he pulled me to my feet. He wrapped his arm around my back and he slowly and carefully walked me back to our campsite. When we arrived he gave me blankets and he then quickly set off to calm the horse, which had been wildly bucking from the confusion. When all was calm he came to me and spoke, "Zabuza, words cannot explain the sorrow I feel for hurting you. I judged you, I spoke down to you, and worst of all I actually hated you."

"Kind sir. I do not care how you acted. It is the strong want you have to make it right that drives me. I ask you one thing. What is your name?" I announced.

"My name is Church, but from now on I am not just a name to you; I am a friend.

The rain, mud, and thunder made no difference to me that afternoon, because it was definitely the best day of my life. I had obtained something I lacked since I was old enough to understand the concept. I was given my first friend. Although my leg was dark and swollen, I lied and told him I could go on.

"Are you sure?" he asked and I nodded. He led me to the horse and again hoisted me onto it. I smiled and thought for a moment.

I laughed and held out my hand to him, "Church, I will only go if you ride with me."

He laughed and leapt onto horse behind me. He grabbed the reins and he cracked it slightly. The horse began to move.

I found it ironic that hours ago I feared that the stranger would ride on the horse with me, but now he was not a stranger to me. He was Church my only friend, the only person who had ever raised me to his level. Then I realized that he had actually put me far above his stature to make me happy. And he succeeded too. I was at a new height in my life. I looked onto my heart and I saw my empty, dark, dry sea become anew. I saw water, and I saw waves. It was not only the sea I saw either.

I saw the sky and the clouds painted on it. I could smell the sea breeze that made my hopes anew. One day I would be happy. I would be strong and would never let my heart brake again.

One day I hoped to encounter my father. And when I did meet with him I would tell him how much I hated him. I would tell him how I proved him wrong. He thought I would be a tool. He thought I would be like him. The difference between him, and me though, was that I chose my path, and I believed he could choose his too. He could change just like I did. And I would be waiting when he did.

I was no longer afraid to be laughed at because I had shattered my barrier. I had stepped out of my comfort zone and I stepped into the real world. I was now part of a vast new world that I could now graze and explore the new sensations of it. It was a world that I controlled not one that controlled me. I was no one's thrall anymore. I was mine and mine alone. I could be bid on, but I knew that I, like everyone else, was priceless. And I would explore my boundaries with the man of multiple personalities. He was Church, and he was indeed majestic.


	2. The Home of the Meager Patrons

Chapter 2: The Home of the Meager Patrons

The horse's fast galloping brought us safely to Church's small hometown. I expected his house to be a grand spectacle with vast fields, but instead it was only about the same size as the slave tavern. It was old but looked as if it could offer a warm and inviting bed. A bed was what I wanted most. Between my ankle and my fatigue I did not no which one was harsher on me.

From what I could see it did not look like Church even owned any slaves. That made me smile. From the time we left town till we arrived in the small town, Church had not ceased to surprise me at how heartfelt he was.

"Finally!" Church groaned, "We're home!" I too could not help but feel the joy he felt. It too felt like my home.

When we went around back his house, we stopped when we reached the stables. Church leapt from the horse and took my hand in escorting me off as well. When we were both earthbound, Church took the reins and led the horse into the stable. Minutes later he came back and we playfully hobbled to his Tavern. When Church swung open the door to his tavern I felt a great sigh of relief. He led me in before him and I was glad I was free from the pouring rain. I heard Church sigh loudly as he removed his dripping overcoat and threw it aside.

"There is a room at the end of the hallway upstairs. If you want to change and get some rest, then you can go there. That will be your room from now on." Church politely implied.

"I am grateful for the offer, but I don't have any clothes. Remember?" I said to him with a hint of regret as I finished. I knew that he would offer to get me some. He had already been charitable enough.

"I'll go into to town as you sleep and rest your leg. If your leg swells there is a compress in the cellar." He offered but I refused, "No don't! Please don't buy me anything!"

"Part of you working and living here is me feeding, sheltering, and clothing you. So don't refuse." Church was sincere. I could tell by his tone that I had offended him. I quickly inserted an apology, "I am sorry. I am headstrong, that's all. If I say something that hurts your pride in anyway, just tell me."

"It's no problem, Zabuza. I just want to be generous." Church said.

"But Church you have been. You have been more generous to me than anyone has been before. If you keep spoiling me like this, I'll lose some of my independence. I like that you care about me, but when I leave, like you said I eventually will, then I will have to be able to fend for myself. I will allow you to buy my habiliments, but I will henceforth cook my own food, clean my own room, and clean my clothes."

Church began to protest but then backed off when he saw that I had made my final decision, "Goodnight," was all he said.

The sleep I endured was as close I had ever been to total relaxation. Had my ankle not been sprained I would have perhaps met that calmness, but instead it bothered me slightly. I knew that I would be unable to move faster than a hobble for a few days, although I felt no urge to run from my current predicament anyways. Church had offered me a place to live, so I intended to live there. After all it was a very cozy tavern, although I could not help that it wasn't quite the cleanest tavern. It was exceedingly dusty and spider webs nestled themselves into the corners of the ceilings. I had no doubt that Church went to the slave tavern to buy a cleaning woman.

Alas the night carried on and I dreamt of sorrow. It was contemptuous and dark, the usual dream. It involved a crying boy and a raging father. The father runs to his daughter and snatches her from the ground. "No father!" the boy cries as he watches his father take his flailing sister towards the creek. The father ignores the boy and curses to his daughter, "Why must you deliberately disobey me! I gave you life. What more should you ask of? Love? No, love is for the weak."

As the father finishes he kneels down on his knees in front of the surging creek and dips his bawling daughters head into the creek, before she can get a breath. After several seconds he raises her head again so that she might breath just that he can dip her head under the water longer to make her suffer more. All the while the boy is cradling his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth murmuring a cry of sorrow. He whimpers for his sister, the only person who treated him with any love.

The father lifts his daughters head once more and she chokes for another breath, just to have it taken away again as he drives her head back into the hungry creek. This time was not as the others. He kept the head under the water much longer than usual. The girl shook violently to free herself, but the power of her father was too much. The father did not intend to kill her because she was essential. Instead he wanted to teach her a lesson, keep her under the water long enough to keep her alive, but to make her think she narrowly escaped death.

The boy, of course, did not know this. He thought his heartless father was headstrong for killing his own daughter. So the boy ran to his father and leapt onto his back. He began to bite and scratch at his father's throat; anything to save his sister. The father cried out violently in suffrage. In his confusion the man let go of his daughter, who had lost the strength enough to fight the raging current, and in time she was swept away from the life she had once known.

I awoke gasping for breath and I clenched tightly to my blankets. I felt refreshed from my sleep even though I had just had my usual dreaded nightmare. I had had my usual dream of my dreadful childhood. The dream normally went on resulting in me beginning my career as an assassin. I cringed; Church did not yet know that I had been an assassin. With that in mind, I shifted my thought directly towards Church.

I had hoped that my dream would change. Ever so often my dreams would add something new. This time I had wished it would make Church a new addition. I wanted to tell him that I wanted him in my dreams, but I assumed he would be flattered to the point that he would take it the wrong way. I liked Church, but I was afraid that if things got romantic between us, then I might eventually lose him if things didn't work out.

I shuttered; why shouldn't I like Church, though. He was tall and handsome. He was kind and forgiving. He had all the tributes of a man that I would have wanted to marry.

I stopped my thoughts of Church too late. I had already revealed to myself my true feelings about him. I did love and I did want to marry him. But he would never marry me, would he? I would hope so. Maybe he liked me to. Yes! That had to be it! Why else would he be so kind to me?

I figured Church was just nice to everyone, but I dreamt in my mind that he did indeed flatter me out of romance. I was overjoyed at the thoughts. So overjoyed, in fact, that I rested my head back onto my soft pillow. I was so well rested already, that I thought that I might have not been able to get back to sleep. But my drive to have Church in my dreams was so strong that I managed to close my eyes and dream once again.

The second time I awoke, it was by the sound of a knock on my door. I sat up and asked who it was already knowing who it actually was, "It is I." Church answered. I threw aside my covers and literally hobbled to the door. I opened the door and when I saw that he was smiling I could not contain myself. I leapt for him to embrace him. My leap was enough that Church actually caught me in his arms hand held me. "Why so happy?" Church asked.

"Because you were in my dreams!" I said in such excitement that I practically yelled. As soon as I said this I could tell that Church was embarrassed, "I am happy that I am in your dreams, Zabuza, but that is not all that amazing, is it?"

"Yes it is! My dreams have forever been filled with hate, rage, and sorrow, but for the first time since my dreams began, I dreamt of happiness. You were there to see my happiness to.

"But Zabuza, I can see how happy you are right now." Church said, his face now pure red.

I released him so that I would not make him anymore comfortable. I changed the subject as I saw boxes strewn on the ground. I had not noticed until then that Church had been holding those boxes until I had jumped into his arms. "So what's in the box." I asked.

"Clothes. I don't know what you like so I just grabbed a variety of things. I hope you don't mind." Church said somewhat sadly as if he had not used the best of his abilities.

"No it's fine. Thank you, Church." I said taking my turn to blush.

"There is the spa down stairs and out into the courtyard. If you wish to bathe then you can when ever you please." Church offered.

"Ok," was all I said, as I grabbed a towel from among the boxes and I ran past him and down the hall. I could see that he was surprised at my impulse, and I could also see that he was a little bit offended. He must have had something important to tell me, but I could not have helped it. Talking to Church had left me so bashful and breathless that I had to leave the situation or I might have literally passed out.

I went downstairs and went through the double glass doors that led to the enclosed courtyard. For some reason, I hadn't noticed the door before. I suppose I might have been too tired to care so much. When I felt the cold air on my skin I shivered. Then I looked to the spa and wondered how such a hot spring could exist in a place like this. I supposed that since we were near the mountains, the hot spring might have formed from them. It also could have been because much of the land in Exile is geothermal and has twelve volcanoes.

It did not take long for me to strip off my garments and literally plunge into the spa. It felt a tender relaxation, rivaling the bitter chill of the air. For several minutes I just wadded and relaxed in the hot spring. I never wanted to get out.

After many more minutes, I began to feel lightheaded. It was then that I decided it was best to finish what I had came to do and get out. I swam to the soaps and began to clean myself thoroughly. The soaps were by no means cheap. They smelled wondrous. And reminded me of nature and the wild. I had often heard of these kinds of soap. The wealthy women of Miraga used them and now I felt like one of them.

After I was clean I swam back towards where I had left my clothes. It was then that I heard a loud splash behind me. I turned around in time enough to see a man surface. "Church?" I began to blush, but it was far from Church. The man, even after submerging in water, looked like he had not bathed in months. I screamed and scramble out of the water searching quickly for my towel. When I found it, I wrapped it around my body and ran from the courtyard, not even bothering to gather my clothes. I ran up the stairs and ran into Church at the top.

"Church, there is a man in the spa!" I yelled. I expected him to become alert, but instead he held his thighs and laughed, "Zabuza," he laughed, "That was a customer! He wanted to use the spa so he did."

"But I was in there!" I yelled in confusion. Church understood and tried to explain, "Zabuza, part of the tavern is the spa. Customers can use it whenever they want. Yes, I do understand that it is not normal for you to see a man without clothes on, but these people are used to it."

"So the man was not interested?" I asked. Church frowned, "There is no telling for sure. Human nature is still human nature. Several guys will come here just to see a woman, but the women will more than likely slap them dead before they let the men come near them (although occasionally things do happen in the spa). Human nature still applies, but common sense does too." He paused. "Do you understand?" he asked.

"Yes I suppose so." I said with a sigh. I was not frightened of the man's nudity, but I was frightened that he might have been a thief. But now I knew he was a customer, and from now on, the customer came first.

For a little while we were silent. I looked up to Church, and I saw that he was blushing. Then I remembered that I was in my towel. I became so embarrassed that I ran down the stairs and back out into the courtyard. I ran to gather my clothes, but a voice stopped me. "I'm sorry that I scared you." The voice said. I turned to see that the man in the spa had spoken. He was cleaner now, but I still felt a little disgusted. "It is no problem." I said, "I overreacted."

The man said no more and I gathered my clothes. I walked from the courtyard once more and walked to my room, not running into to Church once on the way. When I was alone in my room I shut and latched my door. I dropped my towel and walked to my bed. On the bed were the boxes of clothes. I collapsed on the bad and opened the first box I grabbed. In it was a short black dress that appeared rather tight. I considered throwing it aside until I took into consideration that it might help me look appealing. I was slender and would look alluring in the dress. I wanted to look attractive to Church. I also wanted to look good to the customers, who I knew would probably spend more money for my sake if I slyly led them on. With my decision made I grabbed some undergarments and dressed my self. I then took a brush from among the boxes and began to make my hair as smooth as silk. When I was satisfied, I took a long deep breath and made my way downstairs where Church was waiting. Many others were there to. I saw every head in the now surprisingly crowded tavern turn in my direction. I could hear that their breaths had momentarily ceased. I saw that Church's mouth was gapped open, as were most of the men. The women too, even showed a little gape, although most of it was jealousy. I smiled. I had made my first impression, and it was amazing.

For the next several minutes, Church told me of my new duties. Most of all they were all bartending jobs. First he made me polish every bottle of wine. I did not mind though, I was going to work hard for my keep. Then he spent over an hour with me explaining every form of a drink and how to mix it just right. Then last he taught me how to count the money correctly. I was pretty good at it because the men almost always paid in full killos. By time the evening came, I had already managed to work alone. Most of it, though, was because Church had received a letter. He looked at it once and frowned, and without saying anymore he ran upstairs and locked himself in his room. When midnight came, and because it was not the weekend, I closed the shop.

When I made sure everyone had left, I went upstairs and knocked on Church's door. He told me I could come in. I hesitated but did not refuse the invitation. I saw Church sitting on his bed, his eyes were dark and his hair was a mess. I could tell he had been in deep thought.

"Zabuza." He said, "I am sorry to drop this on you so quickly, but I'm leaving for a few weeks. I don't know exactly when I'll return." My heart stopped, "But why! Why must you leave so soon!"

"There is something big going on. The Lizero army is marching for Wansaya. Which means that if they take it…Exile will lose its main means of water transportation, and without water transportation, we can't get imports or send exports." Church informed me, but I did not see what he was intending for me to understand, "How does this concern you?" I asked becoming impatient.

"Zabuza, I am…I'm a black mage. As a matter of fact, I am one of the best in all of Miraga. Which means that I am important to the military. They want me to fight." Church hesitantly told me. I was struck with every emotion. I was angry that he had not told me he was a mage, but I was also very sad that he was about to risk his life. If he were to die, all of my future plans with him would be ruined.

I was ghastly pale in fear of losing him. I saw that he was the same way. I wanted to say something, but the words did not flow. Instead, I did what I always did when things got out of control; I ran. I fled to my room and shut and locked my door behind me. I collapsed on my bed and began to rasp and sob. Why did everything good in my life change so rapidly?

For several minutes I continued to bawl, until with anxiety still within me, my tears brought me to sleep. I dreamt my dark dream again, but I did not care. I was oblivious to everything. Nothing mattered. I was destined to never find happiness.

The next morning I awoke and sat up in bed thinking for hours. I was devastated, but struggled so hard to grasp that everything would work out fine. If Church was such a good mage, then he could fend for himself. I believed in him. Then I got out of my bed, changed, and left my room. I wanted Church to know before he left, that I believed in him.

I walked down the stairs and saw no Church. Instead I saw a note on the bar. It was addressed to me.

_Dear Zabuza,_

_I am sorry that I could not have gotten to know you better before I was forced to leave. It pains me to have to leave you, becauseI have grown rather fond of having you around, but I know that no matter what happens on the battlefield, I will see you again. I will write you letters of my progress, and inform you when I will return. I have left more than enough money to get you through a few months. Take care of the shop and just be yourself, strong, bold, and all around inspirational._

_Love,_

_Church_

Before I had even finished the letter I was in tears. He was indeed gone, and I did not get to tell him how I felt or that I believed in him. I was alone again…


	3. The Goddess of Thunder

Chapter 3: The Goddess of Thunder

I opened the tavern early that day, my mind in many places. I was actually taking the lack of Church very well. I had expected myself to breakdown, but I thought that if Church knew that I was mourning over him he would feel burdened. For his sake I gained the strength enough to continue living. After all, what would that accomplish?

The same man, who I saw in the springs the day before, came to the tavern first again. He greeted me and went out into the courtyard to bathe. I had noticed that almost everyone who came to the tavern bathed in the spring. I supposed that most the people in the town bathed here, because it was possibly the only warm bath within miles. Most people just bathed in extremely cold water.

There were many others that came that I had seen the previous day. They were all kind to me and aided me, knowing that I now ran the tavern on my own. For several days my routine never changed. It was not till the second day of my second week without Church that an event, so colossal in importance to my life, that my life changed drastically.

It was early, so early, in fact, that the forming of moist dew was just beginning to rise on each blade of grass. The wind, exceedingly strong, rapped at the door as if it were deliberately trying to tare it from its foundation. The wind whistled as I walked out into the cold morning air to bathe myself. The courtyard was amidst a fog so great that it looked as if the wind had blown a cloud to the earth. The steam from the spring met the air and formed a haze that could not be seen through.

I cautiously removed my short dress and undergarment, leaving them near the door so I would not lose them. My body responded to the cold air on my soft skin and I shivered. My body felt a sensation, although not necessarily a warm sensation, but a diverse sensation. Alas my body could not bare the chill, so I sauntered into the gray haze and slowly lowered my self into the pool of steaming water. I felt an even greater sensation as I felt the cool of my body be immersed by the strong warmth of the spring.

Although most certainly not a spring of eternal life, I felt as though I had beauty so great that that it out ranked any measurements of standard by an enormous scale. I fully submerged myself, and for a short while stayed that way. I wanted to endure the sensation for the rest of my life. I wanted the soothing waters to envelope me in its life giving moistness and carress me with warmth.

After a while I kept my head above the water, and I just relaxed. I closed my eyes and listened to the world waking up. The birds began to chirp as they set off to begin searching for their morning catches. My ears always heard many things. Because I had for many years been trained as an assassin, my senses of hearing, sight, and smell surpassed even that of the greatest rangers.

The morning was almost at its usual pace, but I sensed that something had changed someone was out there. Some one was watching me. And as a fear grew in my mind I also knew, that whoever was watching me now knew that I was aware of his presence. But whoever this person was, they were so skilled in the art of evasion that I could neither hear, nor smell them. I felt the strong urge to leave, but I remained still.

I heard for the first time the movements of my onlooker, but it was only for a brief moment for he had been on the high wall until then. He had now jumped down from the wall out into the outer perimeter. I quickly rose from the pool, and, although still nude, I leapt onto the wall and my finger with much force sunk into the wall as I created a foothold. I then began to scramble up to apex to try to glimpse the fleeing spy.

When my hand, trembling, reached the top of the wall, I pulled myself up and stood, examining the land. My eyes caught sight of a light so bright that I stumbled backwards, falling on my bottom. I tried to stand again, shielding my eyes, but my arm itself was not enough to prevent the empowering rays of light from blinding my vision.

I heard now the sound of galloping hooves, and I knew my assailant was escaping. When I saw that the light was almost completely faded, I looked over the high wall. A wind caught me as I saw the darkest of clouds forming over the hills in the distance. On the highest hill a light rose up and I could see the outline of an enormous white horse. Protruding from its head was a long, jagged, golden horn. I saw now as it turned to me, its eyes were of crimson, and blood seeped from its eye sockets.

The beast went back on its muscular hind legs and bucked. It let out a screeching nay, and I covered my ears. Not just from the screech, but also from the overwhelming blast of thunder that whipped at the darkening sky. I peered out once more to see a pillar of lightning reach out and connect with the beast's horn. Electricity surged around the beast. It once more let out a horrendous screech and time I couldn't bare it. My vision blurred as a wall of drizzling rain pound at my bare body. My eyes grew numb, and my body shutdown, and as swiftly as it had all begun it was over.

I awoke, still on the wall. Rain continued to pour, and my body was numb from the exposure to the cold. I shivered as I rose on my weak, trebling knees. My breathing pattern was forced into to pants. I hobbled back the edge of the courtyard wall. I lowered myself onto the footholds, and slowly I descended the high wall, just as I had ascended.

When my feet touched the damp grass, I sauntered to the door and found my clothes. I went inside and up to my room. I found a towel and dried myself. When I was dry I crawled into bed and pulled my blankets around me. I felt the warmth, but I also felt a sickness. Long exposure to the wetness and chill had unquestionably sickened me.

I slept and did not even bother to open the tavern to the public, although, because of the rain I doubted that anyone would even come. Eventually my sickness gave me a brutal cough. As the rain continued for the next few days I stayed in bed and got up only to feed myself. One day though, as I was going down to feed myself; I realized that we had virtually no food left.

Church had left me with a sufficient amount of money for such an occasion as this one. I decided that even though I was still slightly ill that I would have to go into to town for food. So early on the first day of my third week, I left towards town on one of Church's horses. I was glad that Church had a neighbor who came and fed the horses for him. I had ridded horses before, but I knew little of how to feed them.

For most of the morning I rode until I saw a man on the rode. His clothes were torn all over and I saw that he was also very scrapped up as well. I stopped by the man, but he kept walking. I asked him if he was all right, but he did not answer. I asked him if he had been robbed and if he had then I would help him. I pause and quietly said, "Leave me." I was a little taken aback but I guessed that the man had a reason for not telling me anything. So I left more than most of my money to him and rode on. He stared at the money for a while, but in time he took the money and too went his way. I felt happiness for helping the man, but now I was with little money. I would be lucky to get any food at all.

At noon I reached the market of the town. First I went to the fruit court, and purchased three apples. I ate one right then. The other I stuffed in my haversack and moved on to the dairy court. I got a round of cheese and was virtually out of money. I went to the food court and attempted to bribe one of the clerks with cute talk, but they insisted that if I had no money, then I would not be given any food.

"But please," I cried. "If I do not get any food then I will die." A man chuckled as I finished and said, "I can pay for the food." He said as he licked his lips," but you'll have to do me a favor in return."

I turned and began to walk away when a hand grasped my shoulder. I would have turned and slugged the person if it had not been from the fact that it felt like the soft touch of a woman. I turned and was correct. I women, beautiful, with bright blue eyes and long golden hair stood before me. She smiled upon me with hand on her slender hips. She had scarlet legs, and a wondrous, white, silky cloak. She appeared to be in her early twenties. Her appearance was mesmerizing to point that her beauty almost glowed.

Her voice when she spoke to me was sweet and kind, "I can give you food." She said. "And for no price at all.

"What's the catch." Asked somewhat rudely. She did not waver but replied, "There is no catch. You need help, and I am willing to help."

I apologized and at the same time thanked her. She asked me where I lived, and I told her. She, in turn, told me where she lived. It was approximately halfway between the tavern and town. She said she had a larger home and was wealthy. From the looks of her, I did not doubt it. She told me her name was Xion and I told her mine was Zabuza.

She too had a horse, and we rode together. For about an hour we talked and rode until the road forked, and we went west towards her home. When the sun began to fall, we reached her home. It was as she had said, gigantic.

We put our horses in the stables and went into the mansion she called a mere home. She led me to her dinning room and told me to wait as she fetched me rations. I waited for no more than five minutes before she returned with four huge baskets full of food. I gasped. One was full of fruit, one of vegetables, one of dairy, and one loaded with meat.

We feasted, and none to my surprise it began to pour. She invited me to stay the night and I agreed. The room she gave me was almost ten times the size of my room at the tavern. I changed into a white robe she gave me and fell asleep.

It was late when a soft hand woke me by caressing my cheek. I arose to see that it was Xion. I wanted to speak up against her put she put a finger to her pursed lips and signaled me to follow her. "I want to show you something."

She led me downstairs and we walked outside into the pouring rain. We walked across her field and when we were half way she began to run, "Come on!" she yelled back to me. In the confusion I obeyed. Upon reaching the forest's edge at the end of the field I lost her. I ran inside the thick wooded area and called for her, "Xion, where are you? I can't see you." I continued deeper into the forest and fear began to stir inside me, as she did not answer. For almost ten minutes I called for her until I decided I would turn back for help. Before I reached the edge of the forest she grabbed me and pinned me against a tree. Her lips met mine and I gasped trying to get free as she continued. I wanted to stop her, but I did not want to hurt her. I felt her softly caress me hips and my sides. I tried sway from her eager fingers. Finally, when she gave me room to breath, I told her I did not like what she was doing.

Her eyes grew wide in surprise, "Am I not attractive to you?" she asked as she slightly backed off. I was sad for I felt that I had cut her deeply. "Yes you are." I said. "But I do not like women in that way."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because it is not right in society." I replied.

"But if you love someone, you should go for it." She told me softly. I realized now that I did not care if she was a woman or man, but what I did realize was that I what she said made sense. "I agree." I said. She smiled in relief an almost kissed me again before I stopped her. "But I love someone else."

"I saw what you wanted to show me, but I do not want it" I said to her. She, I was happy to see, was not completely saddened. "But that was not what I wanted to show you." She said. "This is." As she said this she backed away and her figure glowed. I was amazed as I saw the woman begin to allow the light to effectively cover her body and transform it. I gasped when she clutched her brow in pain. As if a sword had burst from through the forehead of her skull, a jagged horn emerged. My stomach twisted when I saw that it was golden, and I realized what Xion was transforming into.

She grasped her eyes in suffrage, as if she wanted to gauge out her eyeballs. Her soft, ivory skin turned pale then smooth white fur grew. She began to enlarge, and her wet garments tore and fell to the ground. She fell on all four, as her face became a muzzle and her feet hooves. Her chest grew flat then rounded to form the curved underside of a horse. When a tale formed, Xion's painful transformation had ended.

She or it turned to me. I felt my eyes begin to water as her bleeding, crimson eyes starred at me. How could she endure so much pain? She galloped to me and I momentarily flinched. When she ceased in front of me, she pushed her muzzle to me. I instinctively petted and caressed the fur above her nose.

"Zabuza, If you won't love me…then please do me one favor." She whispered into my mind for her horse mouth did not move. "What?" I asked her.

"Will you ride me every night on this night of the week? She said softly. I was exhilarated, although I was not sure why. I supposed it was because Xion's mystical form was hard to stay away from. "Yes. I said."

After I had mounted Xion, we set off into the forest where we spoke again. "How…" I said. "How can you be what you are?"

"What am I?" She asked me. "Am I not good enough or are you speaking of my appearance."

"Yes." I told her. "You were watching me from the high wall. Why? And why do change into the form if it caused you pain?" I had so many questions to ask her, but I had to be patient.

"Well isn't it obvious? I spied on you for the same reason that I brought you here today. It was because I wanted to have you as my own." She said as if she still wanted me.

"I understand, but you're a mage. What is that like?" I asked her. She laughed slightly then spoke almost with a cold shoulder, "Mage! I did not create this form on my own. This is who I am. Earlier you asked me why I transformed if it brought me throbbing to my knees." She pause her, not just in her speech, but her steady galloping too. "Because that pain that I endure when transforming is but a speck of dust in the wind compared to the sensation I feel as the winged goddess Sugamura Xion.

"Sugamura! Aren't those messengers? My father once met with one. The messanger's name was Sugamura Rah." I said, memories flooding back to me.

"Rah…hahah. I only thought he did messages if they were extremely important." She laughed expressing a tone that I did not understand. "He was the fire Sugamura as am I the thunder. Wow! Your father must have been a god if Rah answered to him."

I tensed. I felt stupid, I felt young, and I felt weak. Why had I let myself ramble if I knew that it would lead me to anger? "My father was no god…or an angel for that matter. He paid Rah to betray the arch and to tell the phantom War that Cear Kruz would be easy to take with the lack of mages." My face flushed, and my eyes dilated. My pupils altered red and then they liquefied, filling my entire eye with the color. The gums of my mouth pushed my fangs outward, adding a more to what I already had. I had fangs all along, complimentary of being part demon. As I let the darkness inside me take control, the ground beneath our feet trembled.

Xion, who sensed what was happening, bucked sending me sliding from her back. She reared around to face me, her hooves pounding the dirt. "Silence girl!" She yelled in a furious rage. "What demon cast upon you should cause you to forget what you love? Have you forsaken this holy place and me?" she paused and said softly, "Don't forget the world that does not forget you. What is rage to you, a way out or way home? Home to a place where no one remembers your name…Changeling girl you must live to die. And you…you have not even begun to fathom what the world gives. Go home…find what pains you. Is it really your father?

Her words spoke the truth, and it was the truth that brought me back to the cozy tavern in one piece. Although I did not tell Zabuza that I would return like she asked, I did intend to anyways.

With the rain stopped, horse in the stable, and a smile on my face, I opened the door to the tavern. I stepped forward and my foot touched an envelope. I looked down to see a letter addressed to my name. Every other day or so a letter would come for Church, but this was my first that Church had sent me. I hastily slammed the door behind me and ran to my room. I nuzzled into my bed and tore the envelope open. It was in Church's writing.

_Zabuza,_

_It's been a while, but I know that you are doing fine. I am doing fine as well, although I have been faced with many battles lately. As I am writing this letter to you, the men of the night shift are switching with the morning shift. I am in Waymont, the city of the Skull Ridge Valley. We were able to keep the lizero from reaching Wansaya. Which means that I might be able to return earlier than I expected._

_I apologize, but I do not have any money for food to send to you yet, but I get my first payment in a few short days. I hope that you can care for yourself and to wish me luck. If we can find who is behind this mess then I will be home within the next two weeks. Good Luck with the shop._

_With best intentions,_

_Church_

It did not bother me that Church did not have money for me. Xion had taken care of that with the food baskets she gave me, and even then if she didn't supply me with food, then my past assassin techniques would allow me to forage for food.

I spent the next five days thinking of Church's return, pondering the mystery of Xion, and most of all I ran the tavern. That week seemed to be the busiest week I had worked yet. The money I made from drinks was more than enough to take matters into my own hands.

On Saturday I went into town and purchased paint and supplies. I spent that whole day, fixing up the tavern. My greatest accomplishment, of course, was the painting of all of both the inside and the outside of the whole tavern. It was now white (instead of the lumber tinted).

Late that night I sat up in my bed, and tried to think of a gift for Xion when I would see her the next night. My feelings were a mixture of sorrow for my denial to her, and the strange want to always be around her. I often though that she might have been casting a spell on me, but I realized that it was just her friendly attitude that kept me coming back to her.

My first thought of a gift was flowers, but then I figured she would take it the wrong way, as would she react badly if I got her pretty much anything of value. She was eerie in the fact that she did not quite understand the wrongdoing in relation ship with another woman. I supposed it was because she didn't know much of human customs.

After several minutes of thinking I gave up. My gift would be just to ride her. To feel the sense of power I felt the first time I rode her through almost enchanted forest. In my momentary despair, my eyelids grew heavy and I wavered into to a deep sleep. My dreams again no longer filled with painful memories of my father, but this time with images of Church's return and me riding through the mystical forest with the woman who knew it best.

I awoke, refreshed and energetic. I decided that since Xion loved nature so much, I would spend the entire day searching for an object so beautiful that it could only be found in nature.

Noon brought me South into the marshes. I rode on through it until I reached the extremely moist swamplands. The land that I would least expect to find anything of beauty, but I knew that even a swamp was beautiful in Xion's eyes. As a test to prove I could understand her I went into the land and began my search.

Then I strode through the land, my sandals becoming caked with gobs of mud, and the irritation of rash and itch agitated my flesh. The sickening smell of rot and haze filled my nostril with a putrid stench. I gagged at the scent that turned me pale as snow. I pinched my nose and continued deeper into the dark lands. At this point I left my horse behind. The mud was quickly replaced with sludge as I now crossed a sickening green water. As I neared the middle of the outlet stream I was forced to tread water and paddle towards the further shore. I felt an eerie feeling that I was not alone in those wasters.

It did not take long for me to realize that I had been correct about my feeling. I saw a long coil slither along the surface of the water. I gasped and began to swim fast towards the shore, that just moments before didn't seem so inviting. Now that the massive, green serpent's attention was turned on me, the disgusting bog beyond the shore's edge looked like the greatest refuge in all of Miraga. I began to understand that true beauty could only be lived by the moment.

When I saw that the pace of the serpent was far greater than mine I began to fear that I would not make it to the shore before the beast reached me. When my feet felt land beneath me I began to make haste struggling out of the water. I sloshed through the dense water. I was almost there when my foot hit a rock and I lost my traction. I stumbled forward into the water. When my mind momentarily locked down, darkness filled my sight and water filled my lungs. Had not there been a tree root for my hand to grasp, I might have been lost to the water or the insides of the colossal snake.

I pulled with all the might I had left. I pulled until my head emerged. I tried to breath but my lungs were overflowing with water. I chocked and pounded at my chest until the water spewed back. I swallowed a satisfying breath before I crawled up the shoreline and stumbled, exhausted, away from the treacherous water. I turned to see the serpent circle around and turn back. I closed my eyes and sighed in relief.

My relief was short lived when the serpent circled again this time it slithered up shore. It was so quick I had no time to react. Its maw passed my flank as its body slithered around me binding me and forbidding the passage of air into my lungs. I tried to squirm but its muscles were so strong I lost the ability of movement. I began to feel pain, and I prayed for a way to free myself. I felt an enormous head hover over mine as it prepared to feast on its prey. Hope struck when my fingertips found the open flap of my haversack. I reached in and my hand brushed across a blade, but in my current predicament it was not within my grasp.

With nothing but escape on my mind, I did the unthinkable; I jerked my head forward and clamped my jaws down hard into the scales of the serpent. I broke skin, and the serpent flinched. This was enough for me to reach the blade and begin to scrape at the beast's skin.

It was angered and it tightened, my air completely depleted. I grew blue but continued my hack fest. In pain the serpent head lunged, going for the kill. I lunged my head up to meet in, and I was happy when the fangs did not sink into my skull. It recoiled back waiting to strike again. Although my lack of air was now beginning to kill me, I continued my assault, until finally I reached half way into serpent's intestines with the blade.

With all my strength I began to cut along the length of snake. It snared in pain and loosened. It hissed and made another lunge at me, this time the fangs scraped across the back of my neck. I trembled in pain, and I would have cried out had I not lacked air. I should have died, but miracle struck. When the serpent scraped my neck it also sunk into its own skin. This pain was enough for the serpent to loosen its hold so much my arms raised in freedom, and I chocked in a breath. The snake lunged a final time; this time with blade in hand I drove through the palate of the snake's skull. It died on contact when its brains were smashed through the top of its head.

I stood hobbling in my victory. My body was, dirty and bloody, an unlikely sight. My right arm was a pool of dark blood of its own. The blade was no longer visible under the moral fiber of the serpent. I stood alone a victor, a warrior, and a free spirit. I did this for Xion and I laughed as I saw what I came to the vile place for. I snatched it and headed back across the swamp. Even through the molding brew, I was fearless. I returned home and thoroughly cleaned myself just in time enough to still reach Xion's just a bit late.

My favored steed brought me to Xion's late into the evening. I was later than I had hoped to be, but I didn't expect Xion to care for my delay. I tied the horse to a stable stall and went, without knocking, into the manor. Even for the second time I marveled at its immense size and took my time before I called for Xion. I was a bit embarrassed about the yell, but I would have rather yelled then have to search the whole house for Xion.

Within seconds of my call the beautiful, blond haired women with high check bones and perfect curves responded by dashing down the main staircase with a broad smile crossing her face. I ran to meet her and we embraced. "I didn't think you would return." Said Xion with relief in her voice. "I made a promise to a good friend." I said. "That I would return from now on."

"I have something for you." I said. It was strange that earlier I had joked about giving flowers to Xion, but what I found in the marshes was indeed a flower. It was violet and had a long stem. It actually looked as if it were a violet rose, but it was not. Still its beauty was still great and I was overwhelmed with joy when Xion smiled in appreciation. I expected her to take the flower in her hand, but when she reached for it she did something else instead. She locked her fingers with mine and embraced me tighter. I felt her breasts rub against mine.

"You did this for me?" she asked. "Why?" Her eyes were wet and she, being slightly taller than I bowed her head on my shoulder. "Why wouldn't I?" I told her softly, "After all, you know more than anyone one what this flower is." I wasn't sure what desires made me do it, but I turned my head and pecked at the soft skin of her neck. In response to my unknown aspiration she tilted her head back, moaning, and allowed me to kiss the smooth skin under her pretty visage.

I began to feel her sides with intense desire for her elegant beauty. My hands found her backside and fumbled at the lacing on her dress. I yanked on the stringing until without any concern for the value of the dress, I ripped the back lacings apart.

We broke our embraced, and she allowed her white dress to fall to the floor. We embraced again and I ran my hands over her thin, smooth, silk gown and gentely cupped one of her petit breasts. As she shuttered, I swiftly ran my delicate hand down over her womanhood and stroked her pleasure spots over her enticing undergarments.

For a while I pleased the sensitive areas of her refined centerfold. I grasped eagerly at the straps of her thong and shimmied it below her feet, kissing her ivory legs all the way to her delicate ankles.

Leaving Xion without the lower garments, I seized the moment to stand again and squeeze her full and exquisite buttocks. I dropped to my knees once more and pushed her buttocks towards me. I began to raise her short skirt, when she trembled and back off, tears escaping her eyes. I gasped, "I am sorry, I thought that you would have wanted to…"

"No, Zabuza, I wanted this more than anything, but I cannot do this if you love someone else." Her words struck me. In my bliss I had forgotten all about Church. What was I doing anyways? I thought I didn't love Xion… Did I? I supposed that if what I had just tried to obtain was not love for Xion then I had lost my mind. "Your right." I said. "I love two people now. But…I would do anything to be with both."

"That can't be done." She said in short gasps as she covered her beautiful womanhood…outlined by light, golden, pubic, hair it was not hard to see that she carefully groomed her self in that region as well as all the others. I was fortunate enough to know by an early age how to groom my womanhood and to keep the hair from overgrowing. Occasionally I would just allow myself to remove all of the soft hair that encircled my tight womanhood. Oh! How much I wish I could have, for just one moment, laid my hands fully upon her graceful fold. "It can be done if you will just allow it." I told her.

"Then I won't allow it!" she yelled as she slid her white thong back up her perfect legs, "I won't let this happen to us!" she said forcefully. I tried to reply, but she held up a hand to silence me. "No, don't talk, let's just ride."

And so we rode. We rode and we rode and did not stop until we could go no further. We slept under the stars, talking, and rekindled our friendship, just another friendship. I wanted her so much, but I knew that as long as I still loved Church I would never have her.

The next day I went home, and a letter from Church had arrived.

_FROM: Wansaya_

_TO: Leekward Tavern 4_

_Zabuza,_

_I wanted to express all my feelings into this letter, but I decided that for the sake of us both I will keep it short and to the point. I care a lot about you and I know I promised I return home soon, but now I can't fulfill that promise. As matter of fact, I regret to say that I will not be returning for a very long time. Our raid in the Lizero homeland has told us that Dagron is behind the attack. So with the armies of the old alliance, the colony of Exile is infiltrating the deserts of western Dagron. I now relieve you as my servant, for I will not be returning now for more that a vague estimation of two full years. I want you to know that I wish this had never happened, but for the good of all, I have made my choice. GOD BLESS YOU ZABUZA! _

_A Final Farwell from one who cares,_

_Love Always,_

_Church of the Exile_

Devastation surged through me. I lost everything. Without Church returning home I could not tell him how much I loved him, and because I would never know how he felt about me, I would not be able to get over him meaning I would never be able to be with Xion either.

I was through with the small tavern and the run-down town. Enclosed in the letter were months worth of money. I took it, placed it in my haversack, and left the tavern far behind. I walked because the horses were not mine so I could not take them. Alone I walked. The wind rustled against my body, and my long brown hair blew with its patterns. I was heading towards Port Wansaya, the one way out of this hellhole. This pit, this secluded piece of filth. "At all cost and through all hardships," I promised to myself. "I will not stop until I am off this godforsaken Ashland."


	4. The Man with the Broken Wings

Chapter 4: The Man with the Broken Wings

Shattered, I drove on for many a day, my mind being set on the land of Archland, a land of wealth and freedom. I wanted to find a new life there and leave mine behind. I fought back tears, though, every time Church or Xion crossed through my mind.

My strength of mind was enough to overcome the thoughts that tormented me. Thus in five short day, I reached Port Wansaya.

Walking along back roads, I could smell the sea breeze and hear the sound of waves crashing against the red shores. As the rode bent along the final hill, I saw the roofs of the portside buildings. I could now hear the sounds of the port's inhabitants. Children played, beggars begged, and bribers bribed.

I was not surprised to hear orders from war captains being issued to their soldiers. The armies of the Lizero may not have assaulted Port Wansaya but they had been threatened. The almost unwieldy guards looked humorous as I approached. They wore thick leather armor, and deer hide boots. None of them wore any high quality cuirasses or wielded any weapon of worth. Rusted dagger and the occasional spear was all could see. Aside from the master chief, who had a bronze cuirass and an enormous halberd, every soldier looked no tougher than a town militia.

I did not find humor in the fact that they did not look tough, for I had great respect for those who fought with pride. It was the fact that just because Exile is a penal colony, the Old Alliance armies won't provide sufficient armament. In all of Exile there was only one true command post. It was outside Cear Kruz, the holy city.

The holy city baffled me in the matter of rules. Only friars and all other higher religious followers were aloud to actually live in the city. It surprised me because although the city was so thinly populated, it still was by far the largest city in Exile. Wansaya ranks second to the city, but it is first in population.

I walked the main rode and did not stop until I had gone straight through the town. My intention was not to meddle in Wansaya. My intention was to find a ship in the docks and leave, without even turning back.

I was immediately exhilarated to see hundreds of ships docked in the bay. When my foot struck the wood of the dock, I ran with excitement to the dock patrol booth. The man in the booth was fast asleep, but I tapped his should roughly, waking him.

"Ahem…is there anything I can do for you madam?" He said irritated. "Yes! How much is it for a one way trip to Archland?" I said enthusiastically. The man smirked and almost laughed. "Get out of here woman. I don't have time for your games." He said with a playful tone in his voice.

"But I am not joking." I said angrily.

"I'm sorry madam, but you don't quite look like a wealthy person." He chortled, now becoming angry again.

"What? How wealthy does someone have to be to afford the trip?" I questioned as the man began to tug at his hair.

"The price for a one way trip to Archland is from 500,000 to 1,000,000 killos." He said earnestly. "Shall I pencil you in?"

My stomach fluttered, and heart raced. "500,000!" I yelled, "That much for just a one way trip? How does anyone leave this country?" The man, who was now grinning profusely, nodded his head in an I-told-you-so manner. The money I currently had was barely half of the cost for the trip. How long it would take to earn the money, I did not know. Perhaps all that I could do was live in Wansaya a work for the fee. And so, with feet dragging on, I marched into town to find a new but temporary life.

I spent most of the day, searching about the market square and in the tavern. I wanted to find a job that was similar to the one had at Church's tavern. I wanted most of all to be a clerk. I wanted to become one, because I knew that the pay went up quicker the longer I worked, and by the labor I put into it.

It did not take long for me to realize that the availability of occupations in Wansaya was not near as much as I had anticipated. There did not appear to be virtually any job opening for market clerks, and the tavern was already ran by two sibling hosts who did not want anyone outside the family working for them.

I then went to what I saw as the leisure side of town. There were several restaurants and a theater in this region. Several townspeople, including the poor, flocked to this area to enjoy themselves the music of the theater. I saw, however, that even though the poor could not afford the restaurants, they still came to be amongst the high spirit atmosphere.

The tone of the people was nothing short of jovial. I loved it when ever other hour or so, a group of townspeople, both rich and poor, would gather to sing and dance the hymns of beginnings. Passing by people would often signal me join them, but because of my withdrawal from society I would always just smile and tell them I was busy. They would laugh and say, "Suit, yourself!" and they would dance on in harmony, forgetting about the separation of the social classes, and work together as one.

I had noticed anyways, that the rich and the poor where one class anyways. Without either of them society would fail. The poor did the physical labor, while the rich managed the economy to keep the land prosperous for everyone. Don't get me wrong, the poor did have intelligence, but there was, in my mind, no doubt that the higher class was more suited for doing the thinking rather than the poor. As I believed the poor were more suited to the physical labor.

Society plays itself out. So I did not fully sympathize the poor for how they were, although I did mourn for those with horrible living conditions. I did not sympathize, mostly because they are a requirement, but the hoisting of the wealthy, I do believe, is unnecessary. Why should the rich, actually be thought of as higher, you ask? I suppose it is because that the rich brings in the business for the poor merchants. Society is a drive to the top, and as long as you keep trying for the goal, one can reach new heights.

I fall into a category that is often mistaken for "lucky". I have money, but I was never educated enough to be rich. So now I see myself walking into a mere restaurant. The words, "HELP WANTED" where etched into a sign posted one the door. Without hesitation, I turned the knob and crept the door open. I sauntered inside and was happy to notice everyone way far to busy to acknowledge my presence.

I went to a waiter stationed near the door. I fumbled with my word when asking about the sign on the door, but I knew he understood my intent. He bowed and took my arm. He led me back into the kitchen where I saw the cooks scrambling about fixing meals, some with cooked fish I had never seen before.

"We are in high demand for waitresses." The waiter said. "Since we need them so badly, I am only going to give you a simple test in order to get the job." The waiter grabbed a full plate of food and handed it to me carefully. He then walked down the hall where we came from. He yelled to me and told me take the food to table 14. I went into the eating area and quickly found the table labeled with the number I was searching for. "That was easy." I thought.

The waiter then came to me and said, "Good. Now grab the two plates I left on the table marked under table 7. Grab the plates and take them to that table." I began to understand now. I was to grab the plates and take them to the assigned table, but each time the number would increase.

I went back the kitchen, and did what I was told to do. I then brought the two plates to table seven. "Still easy!" I though. I looked the waiter and he nodded. Now get both table 2's and table 19's orders together. I obeyed. I went back and found that table two had one plate and 19 had two. I gasped when I felt how hard it was to keep two plates steady on one arm, while holding a single plate in the other. I though about keeping the arm with the two plates near my chest to stop the plates if they began to fall, but I quickly realized that my breathing actually pushed on the plates and made them unsteady.

I decided it was best to just try to balance the plates as best I could. So with all three plates I hobbled to table 2. I was greatly relieved when I reached it with no errors. I happily began to put the single plate down first. I caught my mistake but I was too late. My arm with the two plates was leaning downward and the plates began sliding down the length of my arm. I let go of the signal plate, as it slammed hard onto the table with a loud ping, no food was lost.

I then quickly began to raise the arm with the two plates, but fear struck as the front plate bobbled to the left and fell. I closed my eyes as it fell right into the lap of a rich, elderly man. He screamed loudly, no doubt enduring burns. I jumped back and screamed as well, forgetting about the remaining plate. It flew from my arm and shattered loudly against the hardwood floor. By this time all heads had turned on us.

The man began to jump up as the waiter came storming over. The man's wife trying to calm him as he to shook with rage. "No Rida! We're leaving!" at this time the waiter arrived. "Sir, please remain calm. I ensure that will never happen again. "I don't give a damn!" the old man yelled angrily as he grabbed his wife and stormed from the diner. The waiter now looked to me. "He was one of greatest customers!" he yelled. "And now because of you he may never come back!" I tried to reason with him, but he interrupted. "No! Don't speak! Just get out!"

"Please, if you just listen for one…" I started, but the waiter interrupted again. "I said get out!" I wanted to argue, but I began to walk away with my head down. As I walked for the door I began to hear applause from throughout the diner. "Yah!" the yelled, "Kick her out!"

I suffered a bad burn to the arm, but by this time I had no will to continue. I started back towards the tavern I found earlier. I wanted nothing more than to sleep. I walked through the more wealthy part of town on the way, only because it was quicker. I was about half way through that part of town when I heard a man calling after me. I turned to see an older man, about in his 50's scurrying my way. I stop for him and waited to take in more insults.

The man, without saying anything grabbed my arm and inspected my arm. "It looks bad." He said. I was confused at first, but when the pain of the burn surged I quickly got the picture. "Follow me." He said.

He led me just a little ways down the street until he stopped and entered a small building. It was not a labeled building so I hadn't the slightest clue of what it was. It was not until I saw the objects that filled the room that I knew where I was. I was in a clinic. "I am Dr. Lavess." He said proudly.

The elderly man sat me down and began to treat my arm. He first used herbs that I didn't recognize, and then he moved on to liquids. The liquids felt like they were burning my arm further, but I knew they were only cleaning it. He gave me ointment for the pain and then wrapped the wound thoroughly.

"Return back here at this time tommorow. I want to inspect the healing of the burn. You're very fortunate that you won't have a scar." He said as he handed me some fresh wraps. "What are these for?" I asked stupidly.

"They're for rewrapping the burn every few hours." The old man said as he began to refill his cabinets with the medications he used to tend me with. "The way they treated you at the tavern…I apologize." The man said sympathetically.

"I don't blame them. Sometimes I think I was born clumsy." I said humorously.

"If you knew you were clumsy, then why did you apply for a job there." The doctor asked, puzzled. I told him of my troubles and how I needed to get a job so I could earn enough money to sail to Archland. The man didn't look please at my dilemma, but I could still tell that he was not interested in lecturing me. "Well..." he said. "I do suppose that since my last assistant left me…I might just have a opening for a nurse."

Ethusiasm grew inside me as I saw my opportunity open up. "Really?" I asked, "Yep, and it pays well to. It's enough to send you sailing in no more than three months."

On reflex, I thanked the doctor and asked him when he needed me. He told me return at the same time as he had said before, and he would tell me then. The man, although I could tell was not accustomed to hugging, still understood and embraced as truly and as passionately as he could.

So with no delay, I left the office and returned to the portside tavern. I checked in and told the large co-sibling owner that it would be a long-term rent. He gave a small stack of parchment and another one explaining what info I had to state on the other black sheets a parchment. When all was done I went up to my small room and slept on the day I had had and the one I would be having in a few short hours.

I spent the next day purchasing necessities for my room. I stocked up on almost a whole months worth of dry food, and I was surprised to see that the cost was far less than I had expected. I also purchased more sheets, parchment, and a quill. I found that all of my needs were plentiful throughout the market area, and I was proud of myself for not being tempted to spend more than I needed to. For not doing so I was rewarded with a bargain, putting me further ahead of my intended pace.

Early in the evening I returned to the clinic to find the doctor patiently waiting and filling out doctrines. He turned to me and smiled as I approached him. "How's the arm?" he asked. In honesty it was doing far better than he said it would. Hardly any of the pain from the burn remained. "I've re wrapped it twice," I said. "But I don't think that I will even need the wrap any longer.

Hastily the doctor examined the burn and confirmed that by tomorrow morning the wrap could be removed. He then began to question me about what I new about medicines. I told him all I knew, which was only what I had been taught when I was an assassin. After he had finished his small quiz he told me he would give it a shot. I was so happy I almost embraced him like I did the night the night before, but before I could he held up a hand to stop me.

"So what is your name?" asked me, somewhat discouraged by that fact that he didn't ask earlier. I told him my name was Zabuza. "Zabuza," he continued. "I want to show you what you will be doing as you work here.

For over an hour the man explained each and every one of his tools and what they did. Some of them sickened me as he explained that one of them was for quickly cutting open a body to perform surgery. Another one, he showed me, was a chemical that was actually used to kill patient. It was sick, but I understood, "Sometimes a patient is in so much pain," he said. "That you have to let him or her go. Even sometimes, although rarely, a patient has a deadly contagious disease…and to keep it from spreading you may have to kill the patient before it becomes worse."

I found the thought of killing a person intentionally was sick, but in order to stop an epidemic, I understood that I had to sometimes take lives to save others. Even so, my heart wanted to stray from the thought of ever having to do so. There is a fine line between reviving and murder, and this act meddle on that line.

The doctor then showed me how to properly treat certain types of wounds such as cuts, gashes, stabs, punctures, stabs through the whole stomach, and even limb losses. This department I was a little more used to. Back in my days as an assassin I would often have to stop the bleeding of a comrade or apply pressure to a wound to slow the bleeding. I was glad at least one good thing came from me being an assassin.

Late into the evening Dr. Lavess finished his lesson and sent me on my way. On the way home I took my time by going through the slums. The main thought that ran through my mind was the fact that even though I had been at the office for more than five hours, I had not even once seen a patient come into the clinic. I wondered if Dr. Lavess ever saw much action. "After all…" I said to myself. "Why else would he have been so eager to chase me down and treat me yesterday?"

My thoughts trailed off when a coarse hand clasped over my mouth rendering me speechless. I jerked my head around enough to see a large man, about 6 foot 6 inches, take his free hand and pin one of my arms tightly against my back. His size was enormous compare to my 5'6". I tried to scream, but the pressure of the man's hand against my mouth was more than enough to stop me from screaming.

I saw more men approaching as the one binding me pinned me facedown to the ground. "Strip her," one of the men said with eagerness in his voice. I began to panic now that I knew the group's intentions. The man binding me, now maniacally chortling, now used the pressure of his whole body to bind my arm behind my back. Now with a free hand, the man reached his arm around my underside. I felt his throbbing member against my back, as he slip a hand under my shirt.

By this time more men were on me. One of them, near my head, began to remove his trouser in attempt to get me to pleasure his tool. In disgust I jerked form side to free my self from the assailants' grasps. My opportunity came when the man on top of me sat up slightly to remove his pants. It was then with as much force I had, I kick up hard into his crotch. When I was acknowledged with a scream, I used my free arm to reach for the dagger of the one of the men who now held my other arm. When my hand felt a hilt, I hastily unsheathed the dagger and slammed the point of the dagger hard into the upper leg of the man holding my arm.

He screamed loudly and removed his hands from my arm. With both arms free, I rolled myself to my left in time enough to dodge a heavy blow to my side. I jumped to my feet and began to move my feet. No sooner had I started my running, when a lanky man blocked my path. He came at me with his own dagger. I ran strait towards him, with my dagger in my left (Take note that I am right handed). The lanky opposition raised his dagger with his right hand and leveled it with my hand. There was no doubt the he was, indeed, aiming for my skull. When I was within striking distance the man slashed horizontally at my face. With only a few centimeters to spare, I ducked from the blow.

Then with my right foot I swept his left leg out from under him as I transferred the dagger into my hand. When the man began to stumble, he twisted to his right. With his neck exposed, I brought my dagger to the right, across his throat. With my assassin instincts returning, I turned to the man who had confined my arms, some fear in his eyes. I ran for him as I heard a lifeless body behind me hit the ground.

The man, being unarmed, began to flee, but I caught him before he could regroup with his comrades. He turned and tried to plea, but I silenced him the same way I had many people before him. The blood splattered back road became filled with the cries of me fleeing for their lives. "She's a demon!" one yelled. "Flee for your lives!"

When the road was clear, I saw that one man remained behind. It was the man who I had kicked in the crotch. He still remained gasping for breath as he held his, possibly bleeding, manhood and continuously mumbled, "My babies!" For momentary revenge I thought about removed his manhood, but I thought otherwise, "I don't want to see that hideous thing anyways…"

Midnight struck as I entered the tavern. I was not surprised to see that the lobby was still full of a ragging young adults flirting with each other, some actually more than just flirting. Occationally I would see a guy and a girl go upstairs or sometimes a guy and two girls. It didn't really bother me. I just knew that when I planned to make love, I would respect the moment and only do it with him. "Yes," I decided. "Only a him."

I carefully sat myself as far away from people as I could. It was around that time that my sense of smell caught the scent of crimson. "Blood?" I thought. At first I considered it to be on me, from my earlier bloodbath, but when I sensed that it was distanced, I knew that it was from someone else. The taver, being as croweded as it was, did not allow me to sense exactly who it was.

A few hours past and the tavern began to clear quickly. It was not until my eyes wondered to a man sleeping with his head down on the table, that I saw blood near his stomach. I stood and cautiously to the man. I took note that a small boy was sleeping across the table so I tried not to wake him.

I was directly behind the man when he began to slowly wake. I saw him raise his head to look at the young boy across from him. He then lowered his head, looking at the table. I saw his head turn two the line of my shadow and the light from the lanterns above. It did not take long for the man to quickly aware himself and jerk his head to me. Although I knew he would make the sudden motion, I was enthralled by the way he gapped at me when he gazed at me. It was not that I had never been gapped at. The men from earlier gapped at me to. From what church had often told me, me would die to be with me. He would sometimes praise me by my brown eyes and smooth, long brown hair.

It was by what I saw in his eyes, that wouldn't allow me to look away. I was in his weary eyes the exact pain that I often felt. Loneliness, sorrow, and suffering; all of these felt familiar to me. When the man smiled I looked from his eyes to the rest of him. He was tall, tanned, and extremely handsome. His beard was also neatly trimmed, and he had short brown hair. His body was in great shape and was relatively built.

I forced myself to frown and get to the point, "You smell to much of blood," I told him. The man flinched in surprise, "What?" was all he said. I was slightly embarrassed when he said this because it sounded as if I was stalking him. I rebounded with a quick smart-aleck question. "You are wounded…are you not?"

The man looked down at his stomach then look back up, "It's fine." He said. I could see from the man's wound, that he had tried to patch it up himself. He had managed to stop the bleeding, but I from what Dr. Lavess had taught me, the wound could get infected if it wasn't clean. "Nonsense! It will get infected if not healed properly!" I said trying to sound sincere.

I reached into my haversack and removed the bandage roll the doctor had given me. I placed it on the table and then went to the bar. I asked for a dish full of water and a bottle of pure alcohol. When I was given what I needed I told the bar tender to put it on my tab.

I returned and placed my new supplies on the table. I looked to the small boy who was still asleep and decided it was best if he left. "What room his he in?" I asked the man, gesturing to the boy.

Them man looked to the kid and smiled. I wondered if he was the man's son. The man was probably only about 19 or twenty year of age. Why he had a child was beyond me. "Room 5," was all he would say. I carried the light child to his room and returned, happy that the man hadn't taken advantage of my absence my running away. As a matter of fact, his shirt was already removed so that I could treat him. I began to take care of his wound when he asked, "Do you have a name?"

"Yah…some call me Zabuza," I said. The laughed, "And the others?" he asked sarcastically. I laughed to but told him the truth, "Woman," I said. For a short while the man laughed at the joke I had made but then spoke again when he had settled, "Zabuza…Is that an angelic name or a demon name?" he asked.

I was surprised by the man question, but I answered all the same, "Neither. I am a changling." The looked at me strange then spoke in a confused tone, "A Changling? What the hell is a changling?" he asked rudely.

I frowned, "It means that I have a twin, who I will one day merge with, temporarily, then separate into two people again."

"Merge!" he yelled. "Why would you merge just to separate?" It was at that time that I saw what he was. In his eyes was a gleam. A gleam, that I had been taught, was only found in angels. "It's not important angel." I said.

"H-How did you know that I'm an angel?" he stuttered with overwhelming revelation growing in his movements. "I know lots of things." I said.

I felt an uncomfortable feeling crouch over me. It made me shutter so I changed the subject, "Tell me more about you, angel." I said, almost making it sound like an order. "First off, Zabuza, my name is not angel. It's Merth," he scolded. "I am an angel of the arch. I was in town hunting a vampire named Hans. My job was to kill him."

The man had just so easily stated what he did for a living, that I wouldn't even need to ask him. "Did you succeed?" I asked. The man looked pale for a moment and bit his lip to show some kind of personal mood. "Yes, but I already wish I hadn't. I don't like to kill." I sighed and said, "Me either."

As I fished my statement, I located my mistake. "Y-You kill?" the man asked bewildered. I decided it would be best to go along with it. "Yah, all the time. I'm an assassin, temporarily, but I didn't choose to have the job." I felt a lunge in my stomach. I knew it was from the guilt I felt from being deceitful. Again, I changed the subject. "You look like a lonely person. Is that true?"

"Yes, very much so, but…how did you know?" he asked. I was drawn to his voice now as he spoke softly to me. Dazed, I answered, "I can see it in your eyes. Can you see it in mine?" Merth smiled and leaned in as in telling some kind of secret, "All I can see from your eyes is pure beauty milady."

I began to lose my alertness as I was drawn to him. I grasped one of his hands in mine. I drew my self closer to him. He lowered his head our lips embraced in a kiss. He brought his other hand to my cheek and caressed it softly. He was so wonderful, so perfect. With other desire growing inside me, I took a risk. I pulled the both of us up and with my hand guiding him, I led him upstairs to my room.

When we were alone in the small room together, I shut and latched the door and lit the lantern that hung swaying from the ceiling. I then went back to him and we embraced. His lips met mine as his left hand caressed the soft hair behind my head and his right hand found the small of my back. In my eagerness I began to unbuckle his trousers.

Noticing my eagerness, Merth accelerated his pace and began to passionately peck at my collar. I moaned and giggled as I slid his belt out of its last loop. I let the belt fall to the floor and began wrestling with the button on his pants.

He led me backwards until I felt my leg brush against the bed. He then gently began to lower me onto the, now, very inviting divan. After I undid the button on his pants, I gave Merth his turn to undress me. He raised my shirt, and I assisted him by raising my arms to allow him to lift the white shirt above my head. With my breast expose he climbed atop me and began to nip at my breast with his tongue.

I moaned and shimmied his pants down below his knees. I gasped as I felt his large manhood against my stomach. I moaned at the feeling, for it was the first time I had ever felt a man's gift on my bare body. When his trousers were off and his full body exposed, I gazed at his perfect form. I saw his throbbing member and how ready it was. I took it in hand and messaged length of his shafted, gripping it tightly.

He moaned and sucked eagerly at my tingling breasts. I wondered how a sensation on my chest could make me so damp in my lower region. His tool felt so good as I pleasured it. Like me, Merth was cleanly shaved in that region.

Finally after what felt like hours, Merth stood and began to remove my pants. I raised my legs high to make it quick and easier. When my pants were removed, Merth then confiscate my thin undergarments. He gasped when he saw my womanhood, "You're a virgin?" he asked in surprise. I nodded and he told me it would be ok. I trusted him.

He approached, and letting my soft hand guide his throbbing shaft to my wetness. He pressed against it and wiggled the head, forming an opening for his smooth member. He pressed in and my tight folds embraced him. He pressed forward until he found what his shaft was searching for. He pulled back and pressed in hard against my maidenhead. It gasped in pain, as tears formed at the corners of my eyes.

He pressed in, continuously pounding against the wall inside of me. The pain accelerated as he slammed in once more. I screamed as my wall became breached. Merth withdrew, his member still throbbing, wanting to be relieved. Merth went to my single table and fond a towel. He spent a few minutes wiping the blood from my womanhood, and then when he felt it was right to continue, he went inside me again. This time I wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing the length of his shaft deep inside me. I moaned as this time I felt a surge of pleasure. He began to gently drive inside me at a steady pace. My mind became filled with ecstasy as I felt juices inside me flow; none of these juices having ever flowed before.

As I felt my pleasure quickly intensify I began to loudly pant and moan my pleasure moans. Bliss overwhelmed me from the atmosphere and the sound of our lovemaking. I began to wither as I felt that my climax was just a few moments away. "Are you ready?" he asked me. I nodded, and he began to rock against my womanhood with his tool. His pace was so fast that my folds did not have time to retract, leaving my passage completely open. When my moment came I let out a high-pitched squeal as I called out for Merth and arched my back and released a torrent of my fluids. He moaned, "Oh God, Zabuza! Your warmth feels so good." When I thought my pleasure had ended, another wave shook my body and my folds embraced him tightly causing him to moan loudly, "Oh, it feels so good, it feels like hand gripping me inside you," he moaned as his tool began to dribble. I pressed harder against him and gasped loudly in ecstasy. I felt his hot load burst inside me and fill my inner folds with immense pleasure.

For a few moments longer her continued until he was done filling me. He withdrew, and climbed into the bed on top of me. I closed my eyes as he kissed me sincerely and collapsed beside me. "I love you," he said. For him his words probably felt like a necessity, but for me it meant so much more. Before I could catch myself, I began to sob. Merth rolled over on to me and asked me what was wrong, "Did I hurt you?"

"No…" I cried. "It's just…that I've been dreaming of this moment for my entire life!" Merth smiled and said that it was his pleasure. "Zabuza," he said softly. "I don't want this feeling inside me to end."

"What feeling?" I asked him.

"Love." He said. One last time he kissed me and looked strait into dilated my eyes. "I want to be with you forever," he said. "I want to make you my queen…Will you do that for me? Will you make me…the happiest man in the entire world? Will you marry me, Zabuza?" My heart stopped. If I wasn't dreaming…he had just proposed to me. He had just offered to spend the rest of his life as my husband. I began to sob again but this time with a smile on my face, "Yes!" I cried. "Yes I will!"


End file.
